


like the sea

by uygirlfriend



Series: me amas y me dejas [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: 1970's, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:21:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26111050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uygirlfriend/pseuds/uygirlfriend
Summary: This is a work of fiction I had originally written in Spanish, I recently translated it.I hope the translation was good, and hopefully it made sense, if it doesn't it would help lots if you can critic it so I can improve <3.
Series: me amas y me dejas [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1895830
Kudos: 3





	like the sea

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction I had originally written in Spanish, I recently translated it.   
> I hope the translation was good, and hopefully it made sense, if it doesn't it would help lots if you can critic it so I can improve <3.

_Dame del ayer las ansias locas,_  
 _Dame del perfume de tu boca,_  
 _Dame del cristal de tu sonrisa,_  
 _Dame un poco más…_  
 _Dame todo un mundo de ilusiones,_  
 _Dame de tus noches las pasiones,_  
 _Dame de tu pena los crespones,_  
 _Dame un poco más…_  
 _Dame el torbellino de tus años,_  
 _Dame de tu amor cosas que extraño,_  
 _Dame sin pensar en el mañana,_  
 _Dame más de tí…_  
  
 _No puedo comprender_  
 _Que extraña magia vive en tí,_  
 _Que ha conseguido destronar_  
 _Todo lo viejo que hay en mì,_  
 _Llevándome a vivir así_  
 _Con tu locura en un vaivén,_  
 _Al que pretendo detener_  
 _Y que no puedo conseguir,_  
 _Pues roto quedo ya todo equilibrio_  
 _Por amarte así…_  
  
 _Dame, Sandro (1969)_

-

I had gone to see the sea three times, one time we even spend a whole week, with my godmother, in the ‘ _Anita’_ residential, in _Cartagena_. And i don’t know why but the sea kinda makes me sad, it's so silly, because it's so pretty, that it makes me sad.

He was speeding and i started to like it, when we where on the road to _Pudahuel_. With the car radio loud, the way he likes it, they way i like it too. And i wouldn’t stop lookin at him, his side profile, i wouldn’t stop looking at him because he reminded me of some young man i had seen in some American movie, that i didn’t know the name.   
With the hot chocolate and an apple my hunger was less. But anyways, after we went trough the new tunnel, which was pretty long, and we made it to _Curacaví_ , i told him that we better stop and have some food, a nice warm cup of coffee and milk, because i was still pretty hungry.   
“Here. Have a drink” he told me. Offering Cognac.   
“No” i told him “I want some fried eggs, sunny-side-up.”   
“Sunny-side-up!” He screamed. And started laughing.   
  
But luckily, we stopped at the _English Hotel_ anyways, and i had the fried eggs with lots of homemade bread, a cup of coffee and milk and i felt, honestly, so much better, replenished. While he looked at me in silence. He ordered a Coke, and he would drink it along with the Cognac, and he told me if i wanted some too, but i told him no. Because with all the marijuana, my stomach was upset still.  
  
When we continued on the route and we were closer to _Casablanca_. He asked me:   
“Do you believe in god?” i told him yes. That i was catholic.   
“That god doesn’t exist!” He shouted digging his eyes at me. It scared me. I thought we were going to crash.   
“He doesn’t?”   
“No! It’s a farce! A two thousand years farce!” He added, kinda serious.   
“But...”  
“Yes... There is a god! a new god! A new god for the young and pure!”   
  
And we were speeding again, at least a hundred fifty or more, and i was scared again. But he was beautiful, with his pale skin, and his deep but light eyes, with blue on his eyelids, and his light hair making his face look like it was shining. _He looked like a god_ , and he would look at me with such sweetness. He was so pretty that it made me sad. Because he was just like the sea. Just like it. 

He didn’t keep talking, and we listened to The Beatles on the radio, he loved them, just like i did, just like he loved other American singers that i didn’t quite remember their names even though he knew them all, and he knew their lyrics and he would always sing along with them.   
“Do you know how to play guitar?”   
“Yes” he told me, looking for a new song on the radio.   
“I don’t. I don’t know a lot of things.”   
He looked at me, far-off, like he didn’t see me.   
“I also don’t know how to swim.”   
“Yeah?” he asked.   
“Do... Do you know how to swim?”   
Now he was laughing, while taking swigs of cognac.

_Valparaíso_ was so pretty today, and we went down a street full of curves, but it wasn’t Valparaíso it was _Viña,_ like they called it, we went down a lot of streets until we reached _Reñaca Beach_.   
It was still pretty even tho it was clouded, and it was cold. He lay the shawl on the sand anyways with the cognac bottle, i took a swig and felt much better, and we covered ourselves with the shawl, then he hugged me and i thought i’ll die. He hugged me, nothing else, i could feel his body in mine and i was shaking. I kind of felt like crying, or tell him something silly, because he had fallen asleep in my arms, and i felt like telling him something silly, _like telling him that he was my god._ Because when we were talking about god earlier in the car, i really felt like he was mine. But i didn’t, because i didn’t dare, and it was dramatic, but i really felt like he was my god, even tho we had just known each other.

Then when the sun appeared, i was the first to awake, the sky was starting to look light blue and the clouds were disappearing and we had arrived here at nine thirty, i glanced at his gold watch and it was past eleven am now. And i didn’t wanna move so as not to wake him up and i tried to cover him up good, to keep him warm, _and he was so pretty_ , and i felt like a fool again. Because i didn’t know anything about him. And he had barely asked for my name, _twice_ , and i was sure he has forgotten it already. But i also felt like i had known him all my life.   
Luckily he moved and woke up and he looked at me funny at first.   
“I am... I’m María” I explained a little frightened. He laughed. He had a great smile and nice teeth.   
“You’re _silly!_ ” He told me. He looked at the sun then, at the sky.   
“We’ll be able to bathe in a little while”   
He stood and ran and he washed his hand on the sea foam. He was tall, skinny and was wearing a red-ish vest, and it looked so good on him. When he came back i asked him.

“You’re pretty young, aren’t you?”  
“Twenty-five. You?” 

I was going to tell him i was twenty, _because everybody always thought i was twenty anyways_ , because of my height and my seriousness, but i couldn’t dare to lie to him. What was the point if he would find out i was lying to him instantly anyways? So i decided in that moment, and i have fulfilled it, _on the Virgin of Montserrat that i have_ , except for that one thing that i could never tell him, but you my dear _Virgencita_ , know well and understand, that i would never lie to him, that i would always tell him nothing but the truth.

“I’m sixteen”   
“When it’s your birthday?”   
“July Seventeenth”   
“You’re a Cancer... Cancer!”  
I didn’t understand him. Then he took my right hand and looked at it for a while. The morning sun was warmer now and his hair looked even lighter. And i felt like stroking it, like last night when i had brushed it at the festival, _after we found each other_ and he had been doing god knows what, and had ended up with it all messy and full of twigs and leaves, and it was the softest thing.   
“You’re the chosen one.. you...” He told me.

He then went to his car and came back with those cigars, Cubans he had said, and passed one to me, without asking me anything, and he lit his, and i could tell he didn’t smoke often because he coughed a couple times, but i pretended i was looking for seashells on the sand near me. Because its was a weekday, the beach was empty, except for a guy or two. And he was talking to me now, with his deep and rough voice, but softly.   
“What school do you go to?”   
“High school Number 4”   
“And where is ‘High school Number 4’ at?”   
“It’s in _Recoleta_. Recoleta on Juárez street...”   
“You live around there?”   
“Yes, with my godmother...”

And luckily he didn’t asked anything more, because i would be ashamed talking about my family. Ashamed of my mom, _she was very special_ my mom, and my step-father, who wasn’t really my step-father but _Don Beno_ , and of all the _brothers_ and the house, _that wasn’t really a house_ , it was all tin, and crates and lint, it was all grime, back there on the neighborhood _La Pirámide_. If it wasn’t for my godmother and the _Virgencita_ that had always helped me.

“Lets go swim! C’mon!”   
And he started taking his clothes off. And i looked at him, terrified. I had never taken my clothes off in front of a boy, a man. He had pale skin, and when he had taken everything off i saw that his legs were coated in light hair, just like the ones on his head, he even had light hairs on there, and he was skinny, and he was beautiful, like an angel.   
“Take your clothes off!” he told me with a serious tone.

And I, all i was feeling was embarrassment. No one had ever seen me naked, not even the depraved Don Beno, _even then_ , i was younger, and now, i didn’t know what to do. But he, without a worry, started walking towards the water, and told me to hurry up, that he would wait for me on the water he said, like he was so sure i would follow regardless.

And i did.

I left all shame behind as i realized that the most embarrassing thing would have been if he had actually watched me undress, as my panties had two little holes in them and my bra was being hold by a safety pin. I looked both sides and realized that nobody was here, and so i undressed and hide well under my clothes my undergarments. At the beginning i covered myself with my hands, and felt the warm sun kiss my skin but after realizing that i must’ve looked silly i started walking towards him without covering myself. _He didn’t even looked at me,_ he stretched his hand to me and i took it in mine, he was already ankle deep into the water with its white foam, he took my hand and we ran deeper and he hadn’t even looked at me, it was like he was sure i was there, beside him, naked. And the water was cold, and it gave me chills, but they went away when he started screaming with his head raised to the sun and he started laughing.

“Scream with me! Shout!” And i did as he said, like i’ll always will, and we both screamed.

And then, he lowered his head, all his body and he submerged it underwater, and as a big wave crashed into us we were all covered, and i was colder than ever. And he would sunk, then stuck his head up on the water, and so would i, and _he looked like he was crying_ , but it must have been the sea, _i think,_ and he would continue to scream and so would i, even though _he wasn’t laughing anymore_. And then he got up, and helped me stand and i was full of sand and i was soaking wet, shaking, and he said to me:

“Let’s run!!”

And he started running and i followed him, and he wouldn’t let go of my hand, and he made me run faster and we ran and ran trough the sand, jumping around the _huiros_ and all kinds of dried algae, and then we ran back and i could barely breathe, but i wasn’t feeling so cold anymore and we went to where he left the car, and he took a blanket out and put it over my naked shoulders and he offered me more cognac, and _now i did wanted to drink it,_ and i did and it felt good. And he was panting, naked, moving his arms around and laughing again.

He looked at me differently now, he looked at me happy, soaking wet still, his skin sparkled full of sea droplets, and then he snuggled against me and he drank the last of the cognac bottle. He was naked pressed against me, and i got nervous, like i wanted to touch him, i wanted him to touch me, or something, i wanted him to fool around, but instead i told him if he wanted me to brush his hair again, and he asked me if i still had my comb, _the purple little one i always have with me_ , so i went to search for it in the car, because i wasn’t feeling embarrassed anymore, i went naked. But he didn’t even looked at me, _he may not even know the way i look like_ , i thought. And i sat on the shawl again, and he let me brush his hair for a long while, without moving with his pretty eyes closed, it was nice to brush him, he had his hair soft and thin.  
Do you wash it every day? I asked him. No, hardly ever he had said. But its so pretty, like straight out of the saloon pretty, and he had laughed and had started brushing trough my hair, my hair that was long and thick, real dark, and he would brush it and brush it so it would be easier to dry. And then he took the comb and did _this silly thing_ , that i wouldn’t let just anyone do, but him. He took the comb and started brushing trough the hairs of my mound, down there. They were thick and curling and it would tickle me, but he would still try and untangle them, just looking at me, that i have more hairs he had said, and i didn’t know why i was so hairy, but i’ve always been, ever since i turned fourteen. Then he passed me the comb and i started doing the same to his, which were light and curly too and i was kind of feeling ashamed of lookin at his maleness that was so pink and so pale, not really big, and he was resting on top of the shawl with his arms open singing his english songs, _or at least i think it was english._ Then we covered ourselves with the shawl and i could feel his body heat , and i felt happy, real happy, at peace, and then i thought he was going to get lustful with me, and silly me would have let him, _i wanted him to_ , but he didn’t.

And it didn’t matter because i was happy just with his body next to mine on the sand, looking at the sea.


End file.
